Black tie and sh---

I've had a couple of days of an embarrassing and unsociable mini-ailment that's kept me mostly indoors.

... okay then I've had the shits.

Feels like a family of miniature Alien life forms, battling it out to see which will be first to rip open my stomach and pop it's little head out. And there's this racket coming from my music speakers - a chant by some Buddhist monks. I have a lot of respect for Buddhism but this isn't a good day for inner peace, in fact these particular monks have become so annoying that I've now given them the day off and switched to very early Tangerine Dream: mildly chaotic but soothing.

Yesterday I had to wear my black tie and funeral face. They're odd things funerals, it's hard to associate all the ritual and ceremony with the person who's gone, much easier to say goodbye to the spirit, alone and in private. I'm probably alone in this feeling though, the others seemed to need the event and the presence of the body to help them say their goodbyes. In this case, a faulty body for what had been an alert mind.

On a much brighter note, I'll always remember him with a smile. A kindly, bright and friendly soul.

He would have laughed, me going to a funeral with a stomach rumbling intermittently like an old style coffee percolator. Quite a challenge in the silent moments.

Feeling: physically unsettled.